From Party Pooper to Diaper Pooper – Chapter Fifteen (Commission)

Thanks as ever to Bondagediaperlover93 for this latest chapter idea and commission!

***

The longer I'm here, the more confused I become.

I don't know how long it's been now since that odd meeting: where that man said all those strange things, and the people were gathered around, and that pretty girl in white was smiling at me. There was something odd about it all, I remember. I seem to remember feeling upset about something… wanting to leave, maybe? And then the girl in white had said something, and everything went nice and warm and happy again…

Maybe if she'd say that thing again, I wouldn't feel so upset right now.

We're in that same room where I'd met all these people before. Music is blaring, and the people are back – all laughing and talking and eating grown-up food around me. A couple of the girls already took my tight shoes and itchy pants off me, which is kinda nice. Feels better with my legs bare. Something feels all warm and squishy down between my legs, and as I wander slowly about the room in my comfy shirt and diaper I hear all kinds of voices laughing…

"Oh, there he is again! What an adorable groom he makes, huh?"

"Yeah, until you catch a whiff of him. Don't you think Cassie would want us to change him for her?"

"Hell, no. Knowing her, she'll want him to be absolutely disgusting. The more pathetic, the better. How else will people know what a stupid diaper baby loser he is?"

Baby. Yeah, that's… right. I think? Baby. And a baby needs a mommy. But I don't know where she is, that pretty girl in white who made me feel so much better earlier. I'm trying to find her, but I just can't seem to. My head is echoing with the loud words of all these people, and I'm feeling overwhelmed by the thumping music. Deep within me I can feel quiet sobs welling up…

And then I hear a voice I know better than anyone else's. "Aww, hey there, Bobbie! You're being such a good baby for us today, aren't you?"

It's the nice girl who changes me and feeds me and washes me. Jessica, they call her. She's smiling full in my face, and I gulp back a hiccuping sob and nod. "Uhh…" I want to say more, but I don't have the words – and anyway, she's already bubbling on. "I'm so glad Cassandra changed her mind! She was saying she wanted to lock you back in your crib after the wedding, you know. But it wouldn't be right for you to miss your very own reception, would it? Even…" And here her eyes took on an appraising twinkle, and I felt her hand thumping energetically on my warm and mushy bum. "Even if you are the stinkiest groom ever!"

I gulp, shifting from foot to foot. She's taking my hand now, guiding me toward the sofa along the wall. "Here, sit for me, sweetie," she instructs, and before I know it I'm sinking down onto my still-squishy butt and staring up at her pretty face. "I bet you're thirsty, huh? Let me get you your formula…" Worry blossoms in my chest when she disappears, but fortunately she reappears before I can even begin to whimper.

"Open up, baby," she orders – but I don't need to be told. At the sight of the familiar bottle, my mouth drop open all on its own. And as I gulp gratefully at the warm creamy contents, she smiles and begins talking conversationally, as if to herself.

"You really are coming along so well," she comments sweetly, and now her other hand is stroking my lengthening hair. "Cynthia told me she weighed you the other day for your wedding clothes. And you've lost a lot of weight since coming here, haven't you? That's so good, sweetie!" I gulp again mutely, wondering vaguely what she's even talking about – but on she prattles. "Aww, see? I knew coming to stay with us would be good for you! You're healthier now, and far sweeter, too. And yeah. I know you didn't want this at first, but really…"

She grins and pushes the bottle deeper into my mouth. "Really, I think it's clear that we shouldn't ever let you go back to your old life, huh? We wouldn't want our dear, sweet wittle baby boy to go back to being a gwumpy, cwanky man ever again!"

Maybe at some other time I'd be paying more attention to her. But it's a lot of big words, and I'm busy eating. So all I do is let out a milky burp – which makes her laugh – and let my eyes sink closed, and keep on drinking.

Which is probably for the best. Because I've scarcely drained it before I hear a chorus of voices, and blink my eyes open to find a whole group of women standing around me. They're saying things: about wanting to try something out, about how smelly something is, about how freaking lucky Cassie is to have such a submissive toy to play with…

And then they say more words. I don't remember or understand them. I just know that my thumb slips effortlessly into my mouth in response, filling me with the most lovely sensation of peace and happiness. More words are said, and my brain echoes in response while a lovely, wet warmth spreads all around between my legs. And then, as I'm staring meekly up into their laughing faces, I see her at last: the pretty girl in white. She's stepping through the crowd… grinning down at me at last… pulling down the front of her dress…

She says something more. My wet thumb flops limply free, no longer needed. A deep-seated longing fills my entire being. And as she steps closer, those beautiful big breasts fill my vision and then my mouth. I don't merely want her. I need her. And so I begin suckling her warm breast with innocent, instinctive abandon.

"Oho, ho, ho!" "Fuck me, that's hot!" "You've got yourself quite a catch, girl!" "Ooh, what's next? Making him eat you out on command?!"

I'm not even listening to them prattling on. I merely suckle – unthinkingly. Ardently. Because I'm baby. And this pretty woman knows exactly what I need.

***

It's been one day since the wedding. Sure, I admit it. I'm Cynthia. I may have technically been the girl who proposed this whole wedding thing, but I hadn't really been serious. Not at first. But as we discussed it, it somehow began to make more and more sense. And now that it's finally happened… well, it was not only better than I would ever have thought, but I'm now convinced it was exactly what was needed.

"Hey, earth to Cynthia! You there?"

"Yeah, yeah," I reply to Sarah's laughing question, rousing up and glancing afresh around the room. It's a sort of war council again. The baby in question – now Cassie's new husband! – is back in his locked-up nursery. So here we are, all of us college roommates. We're trying to decide exactly how to celebrate not just the new couple, as we did yesterday, but our collective triumph. Because it is a triumph indeed.

"So, what are we thinking?" I ask the group. "A neighborhood party, you say?"

"Yep, that's it!" Sarah nods energetically. "With music, of course. I can handle that, no problem. But I was hoping you could maybe handle the food side of things? You've got freaking awesome taste!" "Well, sure," I begin, but glancing around, I realize that we haven't discussed one of the most fundamental questions. "But hang on. How many people are even going to be there, huh? We're thinking, what? Twelve? Fifteen?"

"More like fifty," Michael comments, pushing up his glasses and giving one of his trademark demure smiles. "If all the neighbors come, plus ourselves, that's at least, let's see… forty-seven? Forty-eight? Of course, Cassie and Brian and I will go around and invite folks this afternoon, so after that we should have an accurate count…"

"And in the meantime, Megan and I will be busy tweaking his hypnosis," Jane giggles, with a sideways wink at Megan beside her. They really have become partners in crime, somehow – and I'm honestly here for it. "Seems like the wetting and thumbsucking triggers are pretty darn effective. But I'd like to give him a few more rounds on the messing, and maybe a few too on the cumming and breastfeeding. Oh, and naturally we'll get Jessica to load him up with bulk laxatives. Maybe some salty stuff too, so he'll be primed for when we hit him with the diuretics…"

"This really will be quite a show, won't it?" I venture, wondering distantly whether we might have taken a wrong ethical turn somewhere along the way. But then again, public shaming a violent and aggressive member of the community isn't really all that different from canceling someone online these days, is it? Let alone sending them to prison? Surely one single afternoon of being publicly ridiculed as a helpless, hypnotized, infantilized plaything of the college students you explicitly threatened to shoot wasn't the end of the world…

And so I shrug off my inner misgivings. And laugh. And turn to Sarah in renewed energy. "Sure thing! Now, what do you think of maybe bringing in a food truck? See my cousin has this amazing taco business…"

(To be continued!)